I've had literally a person asking me how the run around the park next to work went last night. I was eager to blog an update last night, but I had a meeting that went on, and on, and on.
In the end I didn't get home until 11:20, so I wasn't convinced anyone would be up waiting at their PC for news on my training then, so thought I'd sleep instead.
Please correct me if I'm wrong. I'd hate to think anyone was up all night worrying.
The run was...odd.
It's a measured mile around the park, so I had to do seven laps. I'm not used to that and had to remember to count how many I'd done.
Normally I run to a point, then turn round and run home. I like that as it forces me to do the distance, as I've known myself for *cough* years and I hate running enough to know I'd be tempted to just go “oh sod it, I'm going back to bed”.
The same isn't true on a loop. The end of every mile presents you with the golden window of temptation to just say sod it.
Not go to bed, as I was by work, but to go chill before ridiculously long meetings.
I was sorely tempted at the end of miles three and four to do just that, but guilt at having missed a week of training provided me with sufficient stubbornness to keep going.
The eagle-eyed amongst you will know from my super scientific schedule that this wasn't just a seven-mile plod, this was seven miles with 8 x 100m strides in there.
This is basically, running flat out, stretching out the legs, for short bursts help improve my form.
I didn't like that bit.
At all.
It knackers you out, but then I guess it's supposed to.
Also, I don't know if you spend much time in a park in the dark, but you don't half get some looks!
Anyway, it was mission accomplished as I found my groove, and kept in it.
Run over, it was heading to the showers, which was when the wheels came off.
I got my stuff from my desk and headed to the shower room thing. There's a code on the door and I confidently tapped in the magical three digits.
Nothing happened.
Tried again.
Again, nothing.
If the 100m strides hadn't already accustomed me to my heart pounding, I could have found the pulse-quickening semi-panic quite daunting.
I'm not sure the prosepct of attending a meeting of around 50 councillors, and dozens of council officers is your kind of thing, but imagine it was, and you were going to such a meeting.
And you'd just been for a seven mile run.
And you hadn't been able to shower.
Fancy it? I thought not.
This image flashed through my mind in a split second, then I clicked into logical mode - the only possible cause of the problem was me being an idiot.
Unlikely, I know, but it can happen.
So I reached for my trusty Acer netbook, prayed the batetry was ok, and turned it on.
Sixteen seconds later (yes, 16 - try that on a Windows machine!) I was flying through my docs on there and opened my "FLM" document.
This was an inspired doc I wrote when I found out I was running this again, where I listed everything I needed to do before the day (new trainers, work out why back hurting, learn how to drink and run at same time etc.).
One of the items was "find code for work showers". Which I had done a while ago, and, recognising the crapness of my memory, I'd written the number next to it on the list.
God I'm good.
Turns out I was out by a digit, so I tapped in the right code, the door opened, and the weight of dread on my sholders evaporated.
I then jumped into the cubicle, unpacked my stuff, showered, dried off, got dressed and realised I hadn't brought any stuff to tame my hair.
If you don't know me, that might not seem much. But the fact is, I have what has been descibed by several barbers/hairdressers over the years as "b*****d hair". It's curly, unruly, and generally ridiculous. To keep from looking like I should be jumpgin over fences to help people sleep, I have to tame it with wax stuff.
So it was in such a state I sat through the meeting, feeling my hair growing more bouffon as the last of the moisture evapourated in the air conditioned chamber.
On the way to the station after the meeting, I caught sight of myself in a shop window. Not a good luck.
So, an otherwise successful run was marred by my failure to prepare adequately.
It's like a metaphor for how the marathon went last time!
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8 years ago